


I can't take this pain for much longer

by CoralFlowerBad (CoralFlower)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bottom Dave, Bottom Karkat, Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Dave has OCD, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Happy Ending, M/M, Nookworms, Omorashi, POV Multiple, POV Second Person, Praise Kink, Quadrant Vacillation, Self Pailing, Top Dave, Top Karkat Vantas, basically they dont claw each other to pieces, blackrom that doesnt break the skin, insecure Dave, nookworm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/CoralFlowerBad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave finds himself in a kismesissitude with none other than Karkat Vantas. He wonders where everything went wrong.<br/>---</p><p>now with matespritship and happy sex and really nice things! Super fluffy and cute!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SybLaTortue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybLaTortue/gifts).



> Karkat's POV

You dont know why you agreed to let him do this but the fact is you did and now you'll just have to deal with it. His fingers tease around your sheathe, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the thing in the tank in the corner makes clicking sounds.

"I got you, Kitkat." He licks your ear, and you shudder, you hate him and his shades and his stupid irony. You hate him so much you don't think you could be any more pissed off at him for being so smug about this. He starts stroking your left horn, you didn't even know his hand was there, you purr and melt into him, cursing at him in your head in elaborate strings of fuck and shit and damn you, and you barely manage to voice any of it out loud. 

"Mmmng, f-fuck you." His voice by your ear is low and has this strange affectation you don't think youve heard before. 

"That's the plan, sweetheart."  
It sends shivers down your spine and straight to your bulge, and as you open your eyes and snarl, shaking and quivering in his lap, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. The nookworm is reacting to the pheromones you're putting out, and fuck Dave for having such a sexy voice, fuck him for touching your horns and fuck him for smelling so appealing.

He wraps his lips around your right horn and bites down softly, and you groan helplessly as he runs his useless blunt teeth over your sensitive hornbeds. Your hands are grabbing at the arms of the chair, and he grabs your thigh and spreads you out wider. 

The nookworm makes it over the edge of the tank and starts the journey down. 

Dave runs his tongue over your horn and bites down a little harder, and you squeal. Your nook clenches around nothing and starts dripping reddish liquid. 

Across the room, the nookworm starts scuttling across the floor towards you.

You panic, changing your mind at the last second, and try to close your legs. Dave digs his teeth into your horn, and it's just shy of hurting but it sends a shock through you and it's not even necessary for him to let go of your left horn to wind his arm under your leg and let the back of your knee fall to meet the crook of his elbow as he spreads you apart, but he does it anyway. 

The worm crawls up his leg, and nudges its head against your ass. You whimper. 

Dave pulls his mouth off your horn, and you swear you can _feel_ the string of saliva hanging in the air. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck,  
_fucking asshole_  
and tells you to shoosh. You really can't help relaxing back into him and groaning as the nookworm repositions itself three inches away from your nook and rushes forwards again. Its head slides into your nook with a wet squelching sound, and you can't seem to figure out how to shut your mouth. You're making these breathy gasping noises and rocking your hips. It wriggles, forcibly relaxing all the muscles you had managed to regain conscious control over, and shit you have to pee. Shit. 

Fuck Dave for buying you that soda, you should have known he had an ulterior motive, fuck him for telling you to hold your horses until you got home, and fuck him for springing this on you before you could think to go to the bathroom. Fuck him. 

The nookworm is trying to push further in, and as you look down at it you think there's no way that thing is going to fit up your nook and then the next segment slides in and you gasp, unable to think of anything to say as you try to hold in the contents of your bladder. Dave presses down on your abdomen, and you yelp, trying to swat his arm away as the nookworm presses in still further. You're feeling really stretched. 

Another segment slides in, putting pressure on your bladder from the other side and forcing your bulge partway out of your sheathe. Unsheathing usually takes you forever, which gives you an excuse to let Dave top you every single time. Speaking of Dave, he presses down harder on your bladder, and the muscles there spasm. You squirm as much as you can, trying to pry his hand up as small shocks ravage your body. It's a really intense feeling, and you would be begging him to stop right now if you thought it would make any difference.  
"Dave." You have to try, though, even if he'll just tease you for it later, even if it doesn't work at all. "Please. Don't."

To your immense surprise, he stops pressing, choosing instead to stroke your bulge as the nookworm shoves itself further into you. Its head presses against your seedflap (which is actually a sphincter, you have no clue why it's called a flap, it's ridiculous). There's no way it's going in any further, that's it, the end of the line. You almost pass out just from that feeling, and then two things happen at once. 

The worm starts buzzing, and Dave secures a bulge ring around your base. 

Your seedflap spasms, and you try to release, but find yourself unable to do so. The pressure on your bladder now is almost unbearable, even without Dave's contributions. The vibrations intensify, and the worm pulls back just slightly and rams into your seedflap, which tightens at first-- yes-- but then relaxes completely, opening all the way. Fuck.

The worm's head slides past your seedflap, and just as you manage to wrap your head around the fact that you legit have a nookworm in your seedpouch, Dave pushes down on your bladder again. Fuck. You can't even pee, the bulge ring is stopping you, and suddenly you feel this intense black feeling, even more than before. 

You won't be able to come without pissing all over yourself. You shudder, clicking at him in the back of your throat. The worm wiggles again, and you look down to see you still have four segments left, each bigger than the last. Dave reaches down and taps the worm's underside, and it starts undulating inside you, it's like a bulge but a lot more rigid. It's pressing against the sensitive tissue of your seedflap and wriggling further in. Another segment slides in.  
Dave grabs its tail and starts pulling, and you whine at him, digging your claws into his leg and trying to close yours so he can't get it out. He won't stop pulling on it. He slides it out by three segments, your seedflap shutting after it, before you finally give in and beg, because none of this has been enough at all. You barely finish the word please before he lets go of it, and it pounds into your seedflap in its rush to get back inside you. Your seedflap spasms open again.

It's one segment from being all the way inside you when Dave grabs it again, you hate him. He pulls it out in one smooth motion, you hate him.  
"Dave. Dave fuck no please I want it." He kisses your horn and takes your bulge in his hand, stroking it once before curling it around to push it into your nook. Fuck. 

You feel like you're going to pass out, the need to come is so intense, especially with your nook squeezing you and your bulge poking and prodding at your seedflap. Dave traces circles on your stomach and you shiver.  
"Karkitty, you listenin' to me???" He's got that indescribable lilting tone in his voice again, and you can't help the half sob that leaves your mouth as you nod frantically. It's really not okay how turned on you are right now. He shifts, and you feel something hard pressing against your ass. You rock back on it, bulge still thrusting in and out of your nook, and he groans quietly before he can stop it. His hands hold you at the waist and force you to still. "Gonna make you come so hard, you want that???" 

Again you nod, and he nibbles gently on your earlobe before he continues,  
"Bet you can't wait to fill yourself up nice and full for me," you know it's coming, you know what he's going to say next, and you also know it'll still take you by surprise.

"Slut." 

You shut your eyes and moan out his name, and you know you sound completely pathetic but you can't help it. Your bulge lashes from side to side and forces itself past your seedflap, just the tip able to reach in, but it still feels so amazing. You really have to pee. 

"Mmm, you like when I call you that, don'tcha." It's not even a question the way he says it. You nod anyway.

All of a sudden he undoes the ring and rubs roughly at one of your horns, and god you're going to lose it, you have to pee and you have to come, and you can't do both. Dave presses down on your stomach and you growl breathlessly. 

"Go on, slut, come for me."

Fuck fuck shit. Your bladder will have to wait, because you are filling yourself up with your own cherry red genetic material and riding on wave after wave of pleasure, as your nook clenches and your seedflap tries to close and opens wide in turns. Your hearing blanks out, you think you're yelling Dave's name but you can't be too sure. 

You really have to pee. You try to get up, but he's still holding you against him. You turn around halfway to press against his chest, and he finally lets you close your legs. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your shoulder. 

"Dave fucking let me go I have to pee."

He presses you down against him, and you are forcibly reminded that he hasn't come yet. 

Well, too bad.  
"Karkat." Shit he's doing that voice thing again. "That was so fuckin' hot babe. Shiiiit." You feel your cheeks heat up, and you try to push his arms away. 

"Don't wanna wait for you to pee darlin'." You don't think he understands. "I'm almost scared you wouldn't come back." You snort.

But seriously if he doesn't stop doing that thing with his voice you'll end up giving in and then pissing all over him. 

"Think you can go again?" You shrug, and pull your bulge out of your nook. His hold on you loosens, and you try to get up again, but then he's spinning you around and you find yourself facing him on his lap. 

He's had his shades off the whole time. 

He presses his forehead against yours, and that note in his voice is really thick as he says,  
"That was so perfect, hon. You're perfect." You whine confusedly, and he places his hand on your cheek and starts stroking your face. It's strangely comforting. He places a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then asks,  
"You wanna ride me?"

You roll your eyes, figuring you'll just humor him so he lets you get up, and wrap your fingers around his dick, positioning yourself over it. When you slide down onto him, he groans and rocks his hips upwards, hitting a sensitive spot on your front wall and jostling your pouchfull of genetic material, which in turns puts more pressure on your bladder. You try to hide your face, but he catches your chin and turns you back towards him. 

You lift your hips, staring into his eyes, and sink back down. He moans. He wraps his arms loosely around you, tilting his hips to give you a better angle. You lean your forehead against his and he leans in to kiss you, placing a hand on the back of your head and tilting it back as you lift up and sink down again. His tongue takes over every inch of your mouth, and his bulge bumps up against your seedflap. You have to pee really really bad, and you collapse on top of him as all your focus goes to holding it in. 

He lifts your hips for you, and you make a startled sound in the back of your throat that soon turns into moaning as he starts a faster pace, snapping his hips up into you and pressing against your pleasure nub, right behind your bladder. You whine at him, and he nuzzles your cheek, and as soon as you make eye contact with him you lose it. He distracts you, calming you down just enough so that you relax the muscles in your abdomen, and then you just hide your face in his shoulder and keep on whining at him as your bladder empties itself. 

He thrusts upwards a few more times, and then stills, and you feel his tiny amount of material inside you, your seedflap opens the smallest bit to suck it up into your pouch. 

You bite him, and he flinches.  
"Woah, what was that for?" You note with some relief and mostly sadness that he isn't doing the voice thing anymore.  
"I told you I had to pee, asswipe." You speak through a growl you can't seem to stop. 

He's quiet for a moment. "...Sorry." You push yourself up and take a closer look at him. He's looking at the floor, and reaching for his shades.  
"Wait, what? Dude, what gives?" He shrugs.  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry it made you mad." You punch him half heartedly on the shoulder and let yourself fall back on top of him.  
"Strider you idiot. That's how blackrom works, you're supposed to try and piss me off. That was really fucking romantic." 

He just shrugs again and you can tell there's something he isn't saying but you smell bad right now and you can make him tell you later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: June 3rd 2015, changed your self to yourself  
> EDIT: July 26th 2015, changed dave to Dave


	2. Sadstuck second chapter Dave's pov

You have it together, you've got this shit so tight on lockdown it's practically incarcerated behind the bars of your responsible hands. 

You've got it together. Everything is perfectly fucking fine, thanks very much for asking and would you like some fuck off with that?

Everything's fine. 

Everything has to be fine. You're Dave fucking Strider, you are always presentable and your shit is always put together. 

Except when it's not. Except when you get so caught up in the numbers rushing past in your head too fast for you to stop them and the crazy details involved in filling pails resolved in your head but not in your heart and every time you get him to stay after, cuddle on your bed you can't help thinking it's a start. He's hard, hard to top and hard to stop and you almost feel queasy because you know you're so easy, easy to bottom, he likes when you top him, that's the only reason you're able to do it in the first place, space. The opposite of time and the only thing you don't understand, giving him space, because he asked, it's hard, harder than making yourself top him because you don't want to let him down, you want to push him down and rub your knee up into his crotch and watch him fall apart at the seams like you wish you were confident enough to do in front of someone. 

Instead you have these walls, this false front making you seem bigger, stronger, more impressive-awesome-heroic-useful than you think you'll ever be, it hurts to see his expression in your mind's red eye every time you fall apart, curl up and cover your head like you're afraid of the sky. 

Maybe if you could stop rhyming you'd be able to forego this timing, this rhythm of time passing and never coming back and moments stolen out of your grasp because you weren't paying enough attention for your fingers to clasp around them as they flew out of your hands. 

You always meet him halfway, at midknight, in the empty room almost equidistant from both of your personal spaces. 

There's a lot of space there and no time, not even a clock on the wall and sometimes, sometimes you can make yourself stop counting for less than a second, and this always happens around the same time you get the urge to tell him you love him.

Because you do, and the only reason you're getting to have sex with him is because he hates you. 

You find that just ironic enough to be able to ignore it, so you do. You ignore it, it's not that big of a deal, you have your shit together, you are Dave Strider, coolkid extraordinaire, everything is fine, and you are _so awesome._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave's pov again

You remember the first time you saw him, standing on that meteor like 'so we're stuck here for three years that's a thing,' and now you're halfway through and completely head over heels for him, and he still hates you. 

You love his voice. He's loud, not afraid to make it known what he wants, you like how he still sounds adorable in spite of that. Maybe you're just biased. 

You love his hands. Small and strong, just like the rest of him, just like his nook. You love the calluses he has at the base of each thumb from practicing so hard with his sickles, you'd kiss them every time if you thought he'd let you. 

You love his eyes. Expressive, bright, lashes too long to be traditionally masculine, it doesn't matter. You love watching him look at things, you love watching him take in the world as though it changed since the last time he saw it, you can tell he thinks nobody notices, but you do.

You love his horns. You don't care that small, dull horns are supposed to signify weakness, he's one of the strongest people you know, emotionally, and you admire him for that. You know that if you ever fell apart completely he'd be able to put you back together. You like to pretend to yourself that he'd want to. 

You love his mouth, you love the way it hangs open as his head falls back and he gasps as he pushes himself down on your fingers, you love the way his lips move against each other as he speaks, you love the way they feel against your skin when he's kissing at your neck. You love the way it makes him flinch when you pull one into your mouth and start sucking, the way his desperation is so tangible you can almost hear it. 

You love his ears. You love the way they point downwards and flick back and forth when he's annoyed with you, and sometimes you bother him just so you can watch it. Sometimes you plop yourself down into his lap while he's reading and push your face against his neck, make sure he can feel your breath, before you whisper in his ear, invite him to abandon his book for the bedroom. His hair tickles your nose, but it works more often than not, especially since you're _really_ good at dirty talk. 

You love his hair. It's not smooth by any means, but it shines in a dull way that you suspect you only love so much because you're in love with him. It feels nice to comb your fingers through it, and you especially like how he growls at you to hide the moan that bubbles up in the back of his throat when you pull on it. You remember using it to tilt his head back and how he shivered and fell against you like his legs wouldn't hold him up anymore. 

You love his legs. They're not very long; not exactly muscular, not exactly slender, but they feel strong when he has them clamped around you. Which is often. If it were anyone else gratuitously fucking like the two of you do, you'd be tempted to tease them, but as it stands, it doesn't feel quite like enough. 

You could spend all day watching him. You could spend all night fucking him. 

You could spend your whole life loving him. 

And he hates you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter switches POVs between Karkat and Dave. Every time you see a dash on its own line, that's a POV switch. This starts out in Karkat's POV.

His hips stutter, and then still, which isn't okay because you haven't finished yet, but his face is hidden in your neck and he's shivering all over, but you fucking need to come okay.   
"Dave. Dave what the hell, what..."

-

You sob, face hidden in Karkat's neck, and you're falling apart you can't help it. Fuck. Now would be the time to apologise. You can't speak. You aren't counting either. You wait for the crushing awareness to return, but it doesn't. You hold him closer and shudder again. 

-

You rock your hips, trying to get something more from him, but he whimpers and it's so pitiful(?) you have to stop. You wriggle, beneath him, and whine softly, because if he's going to lose steam in the middle he should at least pull out and let you leave so you can get yourself off.   
...Actually that's kinda hot. You shudder, and chirr at him, because this is an especially infuriating form of denial and god he knows exactly how to get you worked up. You hate him so much right now. 

-

He did it. He fucking, your head is completely silent except for your thoughts, it's sad how this is something to celebrate for you and not just a fact of life. Karkat's realised something's wrong now, and he tries to sit up on his elbows but you just stay limp on top of him. Wow. God, wow.   
His rhythmic chirr gets you counting seconds again, but you're still feeling so light that you feel muscles in your back relaxing, and the weird part is that you're able to choose not to care that it leaves you feeling unbalanced.   
You get up on your elbows and knees and lean down to kiss him as you pull out and stroke along his thigh. 

-

Suddenly his lips are against yours, and you'd be able to just forget everything if it weren't so different from usual. It's not motivated by lust and dislike, he's being so soft and, and _kind_ , you trill at him and try to bite at his tongue, but then he's at your forehead, pressing his lips to your skin and one of your eyelids when you blink. You trill again. You can't help the way your legs twitch every time his fingers ghost over the skin there, your nook feels too empty and you open your mouth to gripe at him, but he shushes you and says,

-

"I know, I got you," you say, because you do, and you've slipped into a more Texan voice pattern now which is kinda embarrassing, but it's also weird because he actually stays quiet this time, he swallows compulsively and you find yourself transfixed for a moment by the way his throat moves and then another second passes and you're jolted out of your thoughts. You nudge his legs apart and stare him in the eye, and it's crazy how much his gaze intensifies when you repeat, "I got you," and brush his hair off his sweat covered forehead. 

-

He puts an arm behind your back, and props you up against some pillows so gently your heart almost melts, you know what he's doing. You recognise in the back of your mind that he's trying to flip flushed, the rest of you is too horny to care, it feels good, and that's what matters. He pulls back and traces around your grubscars, you shiver and keep eye contact with him, he kisses at the lower part of your sternum, still looking at you, and you sob, you have to hide, you have to cover your face you have to look away squeeze your eyes shut you can't.   
You can't. You can't look away. He's got you spread completely open, you know if he decided he wanted to hurt you he'd be able to. You just have to hope to yourself that he'd choose not to. 

-

You keep nibbling and licking at that spot right over his sternum, and his eyes just keep getting darker. You stroke over his grubscars again, and he shudders, he opens his mouth to say something, so you bring your hand down and let his bulge twine around your fingers. He curses quietly, it sounds like a sob. You straighten his bulge out and lean down to press a kiss to the base, he whimpers, you open your mouth.

-

What is he-- fuck, is he putting his mouth on it?! What makes him think he can just, just, p-put his, nnngh, shit, you swear if he stops you'll murder him-- it feels so good and you, you want to kill him but he's not biting and-- ghh, he's staring you in the eye, swallowing, you have to buck your hips as something warm drips out of your nook, shit, shit, shitfuckinggoddavedontstopgod _please_ dontstop, nnnh, n-nookwhiff, fucking, you fucking _hate_ him,

-

You choke, and lose your balance, and god if you hurt him at all now even if it's accidental he'll never trust you again, because of that you're focusing more on not biting down when you fall flat on your face and his bulge pushes its way into the back of your throat, you can't breathe, you're going to start crying, your hands shake as you place them on the bed and push up, his hips come up too in an attempt to follow you and you try to sob but there's no more air left in your lungs, you push him back down and just breathe, you close your eyes. You're stretching your hands out chaotically like you do whenever you're stressed, you reach for your shades on the table and put them back on, it helps, but you can still feel yourself coming apart, no, shit, this isn't good, you can't do this in front of him, you're just making it worse, okay, calm, calm, you can't, you _can't_

-

You were pissed at first but now you're just worried. He's got his face pressed into his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the legs of his shades, shrugging his shoulders in a way you can tell is calculated but makes no sense to you. You stutter out his name and it just makes him hunch over further, he's making this frustrated noise in the back of his throat, you tentatively put a hand on his shoulder and he violently twists away from you, he bites down hard on his lip, clenches his fists in the sheets, scratches at the shoulder you touched, wriggles it, tenses and relaxes the muscles there repeatedly, screams out wordlessly, mouth closed, finally just goes limp, curled up in a symmetrical ball on the mattress.   
Okay, symmetry, you can handle that. He'd be facing you if he looked up, and _you_ don't know why that's significant or even that it is, but that is a thing that matters because asymmetrical mattress movements just aren't acceptable when someone's got OCD. Anyway. You scoot towards him and place both hands softly on each of his shoulders. They shake slightly, and you cup his face in both hands.   
"Dave."  
He doesn't respond for several seconds.   
"Hm?" You notice he's trying to synchronise his breathing with yours, and you try to keep it even to make it easier for him.   
"What is it?"  
"You shouldn't even care you hate me." He's muttering quietly you can't even tell what he's saying but it has a rhythm that matches with that of your breathing.   
"I don't understand why that's a problem." He looks up at you and says it four times in a row like it wasn't good enough the time before.   
"I love you." He takes a deep breath. "I love you. I love you." He chokes out a whimper and exhales a whole breath this time as he says it. "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought with a comment! I'm not sure I'll continue, I think these four chapters stand on together pretty well, but I also thought that about the first two and someone's comment convinced me to write more, so even just telling me you'd like another chapter for such and such reason might be enough to convince me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OCD is needing perfection and going slightly crazy when you find out there isn't any

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave's POV makes no sense if you're lucky enough to not have OCD. Be glad. Seriously, be very very glad. This is what it's like in my head every day people. It gets worse with stress.
> 
> I poured my entire _self_ into this so i hope you guys like it

He’s being so soft, so kind, you don’t know how he knew to touch both sides at the same time, you’re afraid, you’re confused, enthused, no, that’s not right it just rhymes, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop

okay okay calm calm everythings wrong you arent breathing right hes breathing so loudly you can feel it you love him no wait that wasnt  
you love him you love him fuck no just stop stop you dont want this you dont want to think or count you just love him

you cant even think  
your thoughts are jumbled up you dont even understand how youre feeling right now  
you just  
you just  
you just hate  
no stop (none of those were good enough)  
you just hate this  
go away  
go away you want it to  
no wait dont leave i didnt mean  
fuck  
you werent talking to him  
“I wasn’t talking to you.”  
“Who were you talking to?” talking to who who were you talking--- gah, no.  
You suck in a deep breath. Then another. And another. You want it to feel right when you say this even though you know all those feelings are bullshit.  
“Time? I guess?” You feel him hesitate you he’s gonna leave you here and you’ll be alone all alone  
alone to scream at yourself and punch the walls until your knuckles bleed and then keep going because you still dont feel _right_ you dont feel _okay_ none of this is okay  
“I don’t understand.” He doesnt understand neither do you neither do you fuck you cant you cant do this you want him to stop looking at you he cant see you like this he hates you even more now probably you cant even look at his face anymore stop saying ‘more’ words  
pause  
okay just  
pause  
You sob, (when did you start crying), and look up at him.  
“I c-can’t even hear myself _think_.”  
“A-am I being too loud? Should I go?” what do you say he’s right and wrong but he’s-- okay no stop you have to think you have to _think_  
you have to think  
no wait  
you _have_ to think  
stop stop stop just STOP  
“No, yes, I don’t know. Yes but not just you. Time. Time passing and ticking and I can’t focus on anything because as soon as I do more of it goes by and i can _feel_ it karkat i can feel it

You keep babbling and he lifts your face up kisses your forehead you want him to do it again but you want him to just do it if you told him to it would ruin it  
breathe,,  
breathe.

You breathe. Just taking that breath clears your mind enough for you to recognise what you’re doing. “Nevermind. Nevermind. You weren’t supposed to see me like this. I’m, I’m supposed to have everything together, I can’t be weak like this I”  
“Shut the fuck up, you idiot.” It sounds crazy affectionate, affectionate and sad and you kind of detect a hint of pity. You tell your brain to shut up and he kisses you.

-

God watching him is killing you, you swear you are literally dying over here and it’s all his fault.

He’s breaking. He’s breaking just like you hated how he never did. You don’t know why you hated him for that because now you’d give anything to be able to put him back together again. You don’t think you can, you’re just as weak as he says he is. You need to stop panicking, because that’s what you’re doing, you realise.

He’s being too hard on himself.  
You pull back.  
“Dave, it’s okay to have feelings. And it’s okay to feel vulnerable.” You repeat his earlier words back to him. “I got you.” You’ve got him even if he did totally kill your buzz.

Neither of you know what you’re doing. That’s the only thing you know for sure anymore. You didn’t know he felt this way and you can’t see why, either. You aren’t sure why you didn’t reciprocate sooner.

You both are totally clueless, but that’s okay. You don’t need to have everything figured out now. There’s time.

You wrap your arms around him, because even if you don’t know for sure what your feelings are anymore, you know you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t try to make him feel better.  
“It’ll be okay. I promise. We can figure this out. Dave, I promise. We _will_ figure this out. You don’t need to pretend to be okay anymore. Promise me you won’t cover it up when you’re hurting. That won’t help anybody.”  
“Promise. Promise, I promise. I--” He swallows. “Thank you. Thank you thank you _god_ thank you I don’t deserve this you’re perfect you’re so perfect and amazing and, fuck I just want to _exist_ with you in my life Karkat I love you.”

Your ears flatten back against your head and you shiver. His feelings are flooring you. He’s being so raw, so open, it’s doing funny things to your spine.  
“ _Dave_. You,” You clear your throat, and then again when it doesn’t work. Fuck, you’re purring. God this is so cliche you see this exact sequence in way too many romcoms why is it happening to you this is so embarrassing. You make another noise, a sort of chirping, and hide your face in his neck. It always goes this way. One character compliments another one and goes way over the top, then the other starts purring, then they cuddle and sometimes pail. Your nook clenches around nothing. “You really feel that way?” It’s muffled.  
“Yes. Yes, I do, I love you, I love you more than I can even describe, I love you so much I get this funny feeling in my chest and I can’t breathe right whenever I think about you, I love you so much I can stop counting and checking and rhyming whenever I’m close enough to you, I love you so much I can choose not to care about anything else.” You take a deep breath, and then another, and another. You squeeze him really tightly.

-

You don’t know if he realises it, but he’s kind of grinding against you, little movements as he makes this amazing buzzing noise in his throat. “You’re perfect, Karkat.” He trills and presses his nook down against your leg. You push back up against him, and kiss the tip of one of his horns. He gasps out your name.

-

The next few minutes blur together as he whispers praise at you and works your horns, and then you’re biting down on his shoulder and making these high nasally sounds as you’re pushed closer to the edge, you’re so close.

“Your horns are so gorgeous, I love how shiny they are...” You miss the rest of his sentence as you choke on a moan and roll your hips down against him, you’re going to lose it.  
“Dave, Dave, shit Dave, I’m, god fuck I’m--”  
“Not yet, love, try to hold on for me just a little longer.” You whimper and press yourself close to him, holding on like you’re afraid he’ll let go.  
“Dave, Dave I can’t, please, please Dave shit I need it I need you _please_ ” You can’t help it you’re going to cum, you’re going to, Dave, shit, you need him, you, you

“Now.”  
You scream into his neck and let yourself go, knowing he’s holding onto you just as tightly as you’re holding onto him, and you don’t need to worry about him letting you go.


	6. Chapter 6

You wake up next to him. His shades are on the bedside table, you have just a vague memory of him taking them off.

Normally you guys don’t cuddle or sleep together after pailing. You wonder what was different about this time.

You sit up abruptly, eyes wide.

He groans sleepily at you and you’re only barely aware of his arms wrapping around your waist.

You press a hand to your forehead in shock as your brain tries and fails to process your memories of what happened before you fell asleep.

You fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling as Dave presses his face into your neck sleepily.

You make a quick inventory.   
Hunger. Manageable.   
Thirst. Might wanna get on that soon.   
Nook. A little sore.  
Bulge. Tired, not coming out again any time soon.  
Pitch Quadrant. Yeah, you aren’t really sure about that.  
Flushed Quadrant. Empty?

Okay, you can work with this. You rearrange some things in your head, and then turn to Dave.  
“Strider?” You swallow compulsively when you hear the shaky quality of your voice.  
“Mmf.”  
“Strider, come on, we need to talk about this shit. Communication and all that.”

He rolls over, pressing himself against you, and you sigh without meaning to. It’s nice, laying here next to him, you like it.  
“Dave. C’mon. Nothing bad, just figuring stuff out. You can’t avoid it forever.” He sighs, and you feel his breath puff against your neck. You shiver.  
“...’m scared. Nervous, whichever.” Your ears flick downwards, and your heart aches for him.  
“Don’t be. The whole reason I hated you is because you seemed like an emotionless ass.” He flinches.  
“Wow, um. Sorry.” You wince, and move to put an arm around him, because you didn’t mean it like that.  
“No, I... That’s not who you are, I get that. It just bothered me. How you were this great person but you wouldn’t admit that you had feelings, I felt like you were trying to be invincible and I hated that you seemed to feel like if you showed anyone your emotions you’d just be... I dunno. But. I guess, that’s more pitiful than pathetic.” He’s silent for a long moment, giving you just enough time to worry you said something stupid.  
“Wow.”  
“What?”  
“I thought... I always thought you’d just... abandon me completely if you ever found out how, how _weak_ and _useless_ I am--”

You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug. Even though he’s taller than you. His eyes shine with unshed tears that spill over as soon as he blinks, and you press your forehead against his cheek, kiss up his chin and all over his face because you can’t just hate him. You’re purring, but with a different tone from before. He seems to like it, wrapping his arms around you and clasping them behind your back, rubbing the sides of his fingers against your sweater repeatedly, it kinda tickles, but you don’t mind.  
“Strider, I don’t know who told you that you’re weak or useless, but you are _not_ , and if I ever find out who made you feel that way I will vivisect them in front of a mirror and make them watch me.”  
“My Bro...”  
“Your human _lusus_ told you that bullshit? Goddammit if he weren’t already dead I’d fucking kill him.” You feel the muscles in his cheek twitch where he's got his face pressed against your neck.   
“I... Thanks. I mean intellectually I know he was a piece of shit but... It’s just... hard.” You wrap your arms around him and find yourself tempted to shoosh him, he’s being so pitiful right now and you just...

You want him in both quadrants. You want him flushed and pale and maybe even a little pitch.

“I get it. It’s okay, dude, I’m here for you. You aren’t useless, you aren’t weak. Okay?” He bites his lip and after a second he nods so you kiss him, it seems like the most natural next step in the conversation. You orient yourself above him, and put a hand on the side of his face, you want him you love him you need him, you need him to love himself. 

Time passes and eventually you find yourself sitting on his chest, while his hands fist in the sheets as he tries not to just grab you.  
“So let me know if this gets too intense okay?” Your hands are still on his face, you’re stroking his forehead and over his temple, kissing at the bridge of his nose and at his cheek. He nods. “Don’t hesitate to safeword. Dave, promise me.” Another nod, accompanied by an affirmative noise and ‘I promise.’

You press your forehead against his, and speak into his mouth as you persuade him that he’s worth it.  
“Dave, repeat after me. You aren’t useless.” He sobs, and bites his lip, you’re kind of worried but he takes a deep breath and repeats your words, several times like he did when he told you he loved you.  
“I-I’m not useless. I, I--”  
“That’s good, thank you Dave. You deserve happiness. Go on, say it. You deserve happiness.” 

You lift your hips and move downward a bit, closer to his crotch. “You deserve to be happy.”  
“I... I, d-deserve, to--” He cuts himself off, and you press your lips to his.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Dave. It’s hard to say. You can do this, come on. I believe in you.” Another sob.  
“I deserve... h-happiness.” There’s tears in his eyes, you rub your nose against his and stroke his hair.  
“Good, perfect. Your life belongs to you, and you can use it however you choose.” You move your hips further down his body, and start to press yourself onto him, he makes this strangled noise in his throat and answers you in a single, gasping breath.   
“M-My life is mine, and, I can use it how I want.” 

You smile at him. “Great, Dave, great, all of this is true. All of it. Your imperfections won’t stop me from loving you.” This time he covers his face, and you know he’ll probably fall apart if you push it (he was supposed to keep his arms at his sides), but that’s the whole point, he isn’t good enough at putting himself back together because he can’t look at himself objectively. You push his hands away and stare into his eyes, stroking his face. “Your imperfections won’t stop me from loving you.” You watch him and you can see it in his eyes when his walls come crashing down, you see how vulnerable he is and you could destroy him completely right now but you won’t

of course you won’t

“Dave. I love you. You are good enough." He sobs as you push further down on him, you can tell he wants to look away from you, hide his face, you aren't planning on letting him. "Say it." He squeezes his eyes shut. "Eyes open, c'mon, Dave, I got you sweetie. I got you love." His eyes open, he breathes in desperately like your words are choking him. "Say it."

He chokes on air, mouthing your name, and you press your forehead to his again, push down further.   
" _Say it_."  
"I... I'm," He cuts himself off.   
"Dave..." Your tone holds a warning.   
"I'm," He gasps for air. "I'm g-good enough." You kiss him and lift your hips, then drop them back down. He makes this small broken noise, it honestly kind of worries you.   
"Can I get a color?"  
"Y-yell-- orange." You wince, then. This is your first time topping, and you're already almost into the red. 

You pull back a little bit, being sure not to push him too hard, you don't want him to break.   
"Dave, I love you."  
"I, shit, I love you. Fuck. Please," God he’s so, trusting, he’s scared and just completely pitiful beneath you, you can’t say no to that. You drop your hips all the way down, taking him all the way into you. 

He gasps, quiet, breaking, you hide your face in his neck because this is so intense and crazy and you don’t know if you can handle it the feelings washing over you right now are just  
you just

you want him to love himself as much as you love him

you love him so much it’s strange how strong these feelings are and you’ve only been feeling them for a matter of hours   
you haven’t fallen, you’ve flipped  
you’d already fallen hard black for him, you were already his no matter what.

But now you’ve flipped, and flipped hard.

It’s neither better nor worse, just different.

Except it is better, because now he’s being genuine, because now you know he’s gonna be alright, because now you aren’t hurting him.

Now you don’t hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay there are officially an indeterminate number of chapters remaining because i cant stop writing this
> 
> im just gonna accept itll never truly be complete


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter sorry

He's got his head resting on your shoulder, and you can feel his breath ghosting across your neck every time he exhales. Your shades are in his sylladex, and with anyone else you'd be worried, but you trust him completely. 

It's been two years since the start of the journey, and the two of you are watching a romcom together. The plot is actually surprisingly interesting, although the title (In which the main protagonist has to keep his moirail and matesprit from entering a kismesissitude, meanwhile his kismesis has been hitting pale on the other leaf of the hero's auspisticism, and then the hero's moirail is murdered several hours after his matesprit flips flushed for her, and then his former matesprit is no longer interested in a flushed relationship. While all of this is happening, there's a dark plot in the background to put the hero's terribly evil ancestor on the throne, but then they kidnap the hero accidentally and he ends up bringing the killer to justice, and his former matesprit ends up his moirail after they have a feelings jam during which his former matesprit thanks him for finding the killer of his former moirail) that you didn't even read certainly isn't. 

And then the two trolls on the screen are kissing, and it's terribly familiar because it's blackrom, but then it's suddenly not. 

So that's what flipping looks like from the outside. 

-

Right after the part where the hero's moirail is brutally murdered on the other side of a curtain from him, you notice Dave's shoulders shaking, and you look over at him to see tears streaming down his cheeks. Your eyebrows shoot up.   
"Dave... Are you... Crying?" He shrugs. You pause the movie and wrap your arms around him. "Look, Dave, it's really sad on the surface, but Darlep wasn't being a good moirail anyway. She went behind Gremti's back and got together with his matesprit when everyone knows pale feelings are more important than flushed."

-

He's trying to convince you that you shouldn't be sad but all he's doing is telling you he'd choose Kanaya over you if he had to make a choice.   
"Okay, look, Dave. If you had to choose between me living and Rose living, who would you choose?"

Rose, of course you'd choose Rose, no matter how much trouble she's been having recently, no matter how much that frustrates you. 

But that's different, he has to know that's different. 

Or is it. Are you and Rose pale? Sure, she's a wreck, and you need her just as much as she needs you. Does that really constitute a pale relationship?

Apparently Karkat thinks it does. 

You sigh, and lean into him.   
"Okay. I see where you're coming from." He nods, and nuzzles into your neck, murmuring,  
"I love you." You can't help but smile and repeat the same words back to him, here in is arms you've found a place you can just exist with him and your happiness, and you couldn't ask for anything more.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD STRIKE ME DOWN? 
> 
> **YOU IDIOT.**
> 
> (all because I joked about changing my username to CoralFlowey. Also check out my new icon it's my gorgeous nonbinary face.)

He makes sweet, gasping noises as you roll your hips against him, clinging to you, red eyes bright, exposed, staring wide open at the ceiling as his legs tighten around your waist. You take his hand in yours and hold it against your chest. His soft, pink, fragile hand. He's so vulnerable, you think you just might cry from how intensely you're feeling this. You wrap your other arm around his back and pull him upright to sit atop you, and he gasps like you've punched him in the stomach at the change in angle, all the air knocked out of him.  
"Th-there. That's, that's perfect, nngh."  
 _Perfect_. You can't help the way that word makes you feel when he throws it around so casually, like it's an obvious choice to describe you. Your legs are already trembling as he clenches around you, and your bulge twists to hit that spot again. His head snaps back like you've slapped him, and he collapses onto you, not even trying to lift his hips anymore.   
His lips press against your ear, which twitches at the unexpected sensation.  
"I love you." You love him.  
"I love you too, sh-shit."  
Your bulge twists again, and he twitches in your arms, you wrap them around him and hold him close as he clings to you, knowing that if he ever lets go, you'll catch him.   
His hands fist in your hair, and bump against your horns. You gasp, and your bulge lashes from side to side.  
"Ahh, K-arkat, yes, mnng, so good." You whimper softly, and it's just so much it's too much you love him  
"I-love-you--" You gasp out, and pull him closer to you, pressing your face into his shoulder, ducking your head as he grabs onto your horns and twists, shivers run up and down your spine and you let out something like a sob as you come undone completely. He makes a kind of lost, worried noise above you, shifting his hips backwards about an inch. 

Fuck.   
"S-sorry, shit." He shushes you and just leans on you, pulling himself off your retracting bulge and wrapping his legs around your waist as well as he can with you lying boneless on the mattress.   
"C-can I, fuck you, or should I just...?" You feel more than hear an overwhelmed noise slip past your lips, and honestly, you just want to sleep, roll over on your side and fall asleep holding onto him. "I'll take that as a just fucking wank already so we can spoon without you inadvertently humping me." You'd punch him in the shoulder if you weren't feeling so lazy right now.   
"Just hurry the fuck up, asshole." You mean it in the most endearing way possible. He chuckles at you, and you pout, opening one eye to lookup at him. Judging by the way he licks his lips and his gaze suddenly becomes more intense, though, he just finds it hot, which makes you pout more emphatically, which he in turn finds even more hot, and... It's basically a downward spiral. You know you're adorabloodthirsty, and sometimes it's great, you can get Dave riled up pretty easily when you're trying and sometimes you don't even have to. But times like these, when it really only works against you, you almost wish you weren't this attractive. 

Your thoughts ramble on for a few minutes and then Dave snuggles up against your chest this time so you go with it and wrap your arms around him, because hey, he's pretty cute himself, sometimes. Or all the time. 

Yeah, you think you'll go with that.


End file.
